Diary of A Wimpy Kid: Origins of Evil
by the touched
Summary: What is the truth behind the origins of the enmity between Gregory Heffley and Alex Rider? What is the nature and source of their awesome powers? Not mere typewriters I assure you. Is the world as we know it, the only true thing, or is there more beyond? How deep does the rabbit hole go? This is far beyond any supernatural powers. Find out all this and more in Origins of Evil.


Greg stared at the world ahead of him, his superhuman mind already processing plans and possibilities.

His thoughts drifted back to his distant past.

There he was again, the plains of Setta Setta.

The bright twin blue suns burned high overhead, scorching the surface.

A tall white grass swayed in the gentle breeze, and in the distance he could hear the mating call of a Drogoth warbeast.

A pale blue river bisected the land and the sound of its spray and roar filled his ears.

As he began walking , he heard the familiar chants of the Anustruti tribesfolk, "Ca la da shah rna laka po ta sta forra deka defa reda fed legik nico ravas"

Their chants began to imbue the air with a mystic power, and he could already feel the tug of the Infinite Divinities pulling on his soul.

There it was, gleaming in the distance, the Grand City of Arrakh'An Septimus.

It had been many Planar Births since he had been here.

Its golden spires were visible even from this distance, and what a distance it was.

Unlike the puny Mundane Realm he was currently inhabiting, this world was one of a grand incomprehensible scale.

Though he would have appeared to be on the outskirts of this city, it was a good 98 quintillion parsecs distant.

Not that the distance meant anything meaningful to one such as him, he was a Greater Divinity afterall.

Still, he stopped to admire it, and began to reminisce to earlier times.

There he was again, on the Great Disc kOTOR' Sae' reid Premus, home to nearly 300 vigintillion citizens all governed by Torash Vekrovius... "for now" he smirked.

He was once again in the great city of Lorash, and the Grand Palace, Paeledon Castle loomed ahead.

Raising his palm out in front of him he called to mind his sins, and let the Unholy flow from his palm and strike the gates.

Where it had struck the gates, they began turning a dark black color and dissolving into a opaque fog.

Slowly the Seven Gates of Bellahan disintegrated and there he stood, nothing standing between him and the Inner Manse.

Yet this was a Grand Plane, nearly 6 octillion parsecs still stood between him and the Inner Manse.

From behind him a veritable army of Royal Guardians was fast approaching.

They were till nearly 900,000 km distant but they were approaching at nearly 3% of light speed.

There were nearly 85 quadrillion members in the mob, it could no longer be called an army, it was so large all it could be referred to as was a mob.

Each member was nearly 300 meters tall and was composed of pure strange matter. It was a wonder they didn't collapse under their gravitational pull, let alone how they could possibly sustain such a huge mob. They all glowed with a soft golden light and were carrying bright red swords that were heated to temperatures of nearly 33 exakelvin.

He knew he had approximately 93.476 seconds left until they reached him. He sliced his wrists and called out the prayers of the Bloodborne.

"Naka nasfra nuka nushta nata nugat nuhar nufet nofo nike nono nene nene naka naka naka nufasra!"

At this the ground around him began to shake with the force a magnitude 16 earthquake.

The surface shattered and a gigantic hand glowing with red energy shot out.

The figure that pulled itself from the ground stood 10,000 kilometers high, and began to sprint towards the mob at nearly 99.99999999% of light speed.

They collided in a burst of light, and then physics reasserted itself, the mob and the immense amount of energy released collapsed to form a black hole.

"Mahashtratak" he roared, and the intense warping of space reversed flinging him across the octillion parsecs in an instant.

There it lay in front of him, the Inner Manse.

"Tothrak" he roared and a bolt of darkness struck the Inner Manse boring a hole straight through.

He raised his hands and forced his mind outwards.

Strengthening his will and he clamped down hard and began to dominate the local space around him.

He stretched and stretched the space until it finally snapped, and the whiplash struck the Interior Dimensions.

A transdimensional portal which spanned the otherwise infinite distance, was now opened, and Greg could see into the throne room.

Then it sucked him in.

"Welcome to the Trial of Seven Heavens" boomed a voice from all around him.

He was inside a massive room and above him there was nothing, simply an inky blackness that seemed to stretch on forever into the heavens.

He tried a Ritual of Scrying, "Scratha Poromis"

A sudden pain dominated his mind, and he began to bleed from nearly every conceivable orifice.

A filthy black rage filled his mind and he screamed.

"Damn you trial of seven heavens, I am Polvinarasth Kototh Archdemon of Kotash Reach, Ancestor of the Foretold Harbringer of Eternal Devastation JACOBIUS MORPHOES POKAS LIVINAES, heed my WILL!"

He shattered the trial and was spat out onto the throne room.

Laying on the throne before him was Saynaeth Kotoros Lagalos the 1st, Ancestor of Domedus the 1st, himself Ancestor of Nathrak Nevos the 98,786,754,567,890,435th of his name, himself Ancestor by 876,567,456,345,234,123,234,876,587,653,985,678,543 generations of THE GRAND DRAGON KALYTHIS.

"Portas" he inhaled and the Ancient greatsword, Morthakhulus appeared in his hand. Before Saynaeth could stop him, he plunged his sword deep into Saynaeth's chest.

* * *

SAPHARAEL OF BOLODOR screamed in the immeasurable depths of creation.

After have suffering infinities upon infinities of torture, he remembered all this, he remembered the truth.

He was Alex Rider.

Far above in the Mundane Realms, Greg Heffley the vessel of the great Harbringer JACOBIUS MORPHOES POKAS LIVINAES, remembered the truth as well.

Piercing the shallow Planes constituting the Grand Mysteries of Creation, JACOBIUS gazed through the immeasurable depths of suffering all the way to where SAPHAREL lay.

"Foolish angel, what power do you hold now" chuckled JACOBIUS and his laughter trickled down ringing in SAPHAREL's head.


End file.
